We did not make any progress towards Damascus today. We encamped on the outskirts of a larger town last night – the capital for this district, as we soon discovered. For we decided to begin the day’s journey by strolling through rather than around it.
The telltale posters of Stan hung everywhere with extra added touches of adornment.
We were no sooner in its central square than we were surrounded by a convergence of celebratory citizens that clogged all the exits.
We were a captive audience.
When the officials spoke we learned that they were collected to celebrate the anniversary of the world government coming to their rescue in the drought.
When it broke up, the day was too far gone.